InBetween the Lines
by dark-side-story
Summary: When Hermione escapes from Ron and Harry's abusive clutches during the hunt for Horcruxes, she encounters help, solace, and love from an unexpected source...but how will it end?
1. Chapter 1

In-Between the Lines

_Books are always stable, firm, in black and white. When you open a book, it's always the same. There's the same wording, same lettering, even the same pizza stain from when you just couldn't let the next chapter wait until after dinner. _

_But is that what really happens? Are books really set in stone—or paper? For all we know, books have taken on a whole new life outside the pages. All we can do is read in-between the lines… _

Hermione lie on the floor of the tent that smelled like cats, shaking, and trying to force the tears to go away. This would not help her _situation_…

Ron glared at Hermione. "And they call you _clever_," he said scathingly. "Can't even come up with food for one night. One bloody night, Hermione!" Ron kicked in her general direction, and Hermione whimpered and moved out of the way. "We're all starving, because you just can't wave your wand enough to get us some food! A single pea would be welcome at this moment!"

"But the Gamp's Law," whispered Hermione. "It won't let me—"

"Stop it with the stupid law!" Ron grabbed Hermione's shoulders roughly and shook her.

"Ron, stop," said Harry in a dispassionate voice, tracing shapes on his quilt with his wand. "You know she'll just snivel all night and be exhausted tomorrow."

Ron tossed Hermione away from him in disgust. "I'm going to bed," he announced. "If there isn't food, well, you'll regret it."

Hermione whimpered. The cold look in Ron's eye said he was telling the truth.

What had happened? At the beginning of this quest, the Golden Trio had been as they always had—Harry, just as compassionate, chivalrous, and slightly mysterious and brooding as he had been forever. Ron was the same clueless but somehow endearing individual that had made Hermione attracted to him. And Hermione was the same bookish, clever witch she had always been. But now…now Ron was a monster. And all Harry was doing was enabling him. Hermione's shaky confidence had not only collapsed, but disappeared. She only stayed because of loyalty for the cause. Voldemort needed to be stopped.

Hermione let out a sigh. It hadn't started out like this. Gradually, Ron's undermining and irate nature got the better of him. Despite what everyone everywhere thought, it was Ron who was running the show.

But Hermione was not putting up with that crap anymore.

Her bag was packed. Her wand at the ready, and her heart, well…if she even had a heart anymore, it was broken.

She loved Harry and Ron. Or, at least, _had_, until they turned out to be creepy jerks. Despite the coldness and rudeness and abuse, they were her only friends. She had never quite been accepted at Hogwarts before Harry and Ron befriended her. They had saved her from Malfoy and his cronies times too numerous to really count.

_Ahh, Malfoy. _Hermione allowed herself to be sucked into a daydream of Malfoy, with his perfect hair, and perfect face, and perfect body…and perfectly evil disposition. His plot to kill Dumbledore was proof of that, not to mention six years of cruelty.

Hermione snapped back to the future. She was planning an irksome escape, and she needed to be focusing on escape routes, not Malfoy and his perfectness…hair…eyes…_body_….

"Accio wand," whispered Hermione. Ron's nighttime routine was to hide her wand so she wouldn't use it. So she took the liberty of nabbing his for this purpose.

Harry stirred in his bed for a heart-stopping moment, and then sat up. Hermione froze in the act of standing up. Harry nodded slowly, and Hermione knew then that he understood. He gave her a sad smile, then handed her a small folded up note. "_Later_," he whispered. Hermione nodded. Her eyes overflowing with tears, she gave Harry a silent hug, and then pulled away. She took one last look at him, and turned on spot. With a crack, she was gone.

()()()()()()()()()()

Later, in a dusty coffee shop, Hermione opened the note.

_Dear Hermione,_

_I know that I Ron and I have been terrible to you. It's a horrible, Draco-Malfoy type thing we've done. And I want you to know how dreadful and appalling this makes me feel. To think that I've abused and mistreated my closest friend. I just want to dig a hole and bury myself in it forever. And I probably would, except I need to be on the surface to face Voldemort._

_Honestly, Hermione, I don't know what's come over Ron. I know he's had some controlling and anger issues, but I never dreamed of what happened. I can't believe I let the abuse go on for that long. I am through with Ron. _

_I just wanted to let you know that I love you. Not that I've shown you these past weeks, but now you know it. I think you're the closest thing to my heart, and I've spent countless nights up with the guilt and yet I've done nothing. Forgive me, Hermione._

_Love,_

_Harry_

Hermione felt tears course down her face. The skinny waitress gawked at her.

"Honey, do you need a napkin?" she asked with concern. Hermione shook her head and waved her off.

Hermione wasn't crying because of Harry's heartfelt words. She was crying because she was free.

Free.


	2. Chapter 2

**The end of this chapter is dedicated to Stephen Riner, (as are some of the more abusive-to-Ron chapters my good buddy MeriKanne has dedicated to Stephen) the only Ron fan I know. Mwhaha! **

"Come, on Draco," whined Pansy. "Pick one already!"

Draco rolled his eyes. "The blue one."

"Do you mean the teal one? Or the navy one? Or—"

"Pansy! Just take the…navy one?"

Pansy examined herself in the mirror, turning this way and that to get the full effect of the navy dress robes. "I don't know…" she whined. "Are you sure?"

"Positive." Draco rubbed his aching head. Why did he agree to this?

Oh yeah. He hadn't.

"You'll enjoy going to Diagon Alley," said Narcissa severely. "You've been cooped up in the Manor too long. And maybe you'll see some friends. Like, Pansy, perhaps?" she added with transparent authenticity.

How utterly convenient that two steps into Diagon Alley, Pansy had converged upon him, with a beautific smile canvassing her face, attaching herself to his arm. "Draco!" she cried. "Come shop with me! I missed you," she cooed, tracing her long fingernail up his arm in a horrifyingly possessive way.

Somewhere in-between Gringotts, Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor, the Apothecary, Honeydukes, and finally Madame Malkin's, Draco had developed a deep appreciation for ear muffs.

"Let's go to the Leaky Cauldron," purred Pansy. "I'm hungry." Draco just nodded wearily. Maybe after lunch he could feign a missed appointment. Or a broken leg. Or maybe a dragon could eat Pansy, "accidentally" of course.

Draco slid onto a stool at the bar, rubbing his sore head. Pansy ran off to the bathroom to "freshen up". "Butterbeer, please," he groaned to the wrinkled old barman, Tom.

When Tom came back, Draco grabbed the Butterbeer as if it were a life preserver. He used this time away from Pansy to just think. Between Lucius and Narcissa, Draco never could really indulge in some heavy-duty brain work.

Draco knew his side was losing. It wasn't clear now, but all the signs were there. He knew there was a monstrous fight brewing, cultivating on the edge. All that was in the newspapers were scuffles, nothing major. But if it came down to a fight, the Dark Side would lose.

Draco wasn't even sure what side he was on anymore. That horrifying quest to kill Dumbledore had proved Voldemort to be the appalling tyrant Draco had suspected for a long time. He didn't want to be a part of this side anymore, guilty of so many innocent deaths. But the Light Side would never accept him. They'd just as soon kill him than allow him to help.

Lost in his morbid thoughts, Draco almost didn't notice the girl that sat down beside him. Pale, shockingly thin, with warm brown eyes…and very bushy hair. It was her most defining characteristic, something that Draco would never forget. He choked Butterbeer down his front.

"Hermione?"

()()()()()()()()()()

"HOW CAN SHE BE GONE?" roared Ron furiously.

Harry scowled. "I don't know. She just Apparated, not five minutes ago!" he cried.

"Well, you'll have to find her," raged Ron. "We need her!"

Harry's eyes narrowed at Ron. "No."

Ron paused in his rampage. "What?" he snapped.

"No, I won't find Hermione. I've put up with your abuse for too long. She finally did the right thing and left." Harry's eyes smoldered. "I will go find her, but I won't bring her back to you."

Ron's already red face was near to reaching dangerous levels. "Oh, yes you will! That's an order!" Ron shrieked.

"Fine," said Harry. "Petrificus Totalus!"

With a furious look still on his face, Ron collapsed on the floor of the tent, rigid as a plank.

"Good riddance of bad rubbish," said Harry coolly.

With a pop, he was gone too.


	3. Chapter 3

**This chapter is dedicated to Paula Z, for a little bit of Best Villain action! **

Draco, still choking, wiped the Butterbeer off the front of his robes. Hermione Granger, 1/3 of the Golden Trio, cleverest witch of his generation, and pretty much his sworn enemy since Day 1 at Hogwarts, was sitting on a bar stool right next to him, looking a heck of a lot prettier than Draco imagined, despite the gauntness and general aura of unkemptness.

"Are you…all right?" he asked, more than a little surprised to see her look at him without scorn in her eyes. Draco took in her bloodshot eyes and tearstained face.

"Of course I'm all right," she said bitterly. "Not that you would even care." she glared at him, eyes ice cold. "I should kill you on sight," she hissed.

_And the scorn returned, _thought Draco. "I don't doubt you could," said Draco rather condescendingly. "But you won't."

"Don't be so sure of that," said Hermione grimly. She fingered her wand, tucked into her pocket. She could do it, Draco was sure.

"Granger," said Draco urgently. "You have to listen to me. I want to help."

Hermione jerked away. "Don't try to fool me," she hissed. "I know whose side you're on."

"But I want to change that," whispered Draco. "I don't want to be on the Dark Side anymore. It's killing me. Literally," he added. "In two months, if I don't secure a path to Harry Potter for the Dark Lord, he'll kill me."

Hermione slapped him. "And that's supposed to make me want to help you? By saying you want to kill my friend? Do you want me to help secure my friend's death? I won't let you do that."

Draco winced and rubbed his cheek. That girl had some serious power behind her slaps. "The point," Draco said urgently, "is that I don't _want_ to kill Harry Potter."

Hermione snorted. "Yeah, so six years of antagonism was false?"

"Yeah, I don't like him," argued Draco. "But he doesn't deserve to die. I know the Dark Lord's ways are wrong. I want to fight him, not alongside him. I don't want to see you—"

"Draco! Draco?" Pansy slid onto the seat on the other side of Draco. "And who's this?" she asked jealously, tracing Draco's cheek.

Draco shoved her off him unceremoniously. "Pansy, my mother said she wanted to see you. Something about a ball?" Draco lied blindly.

Pansy gasped. "You mean she's holding a ball?" she squealed.

"Yep." Draco blinked innocently.

Pansy stood to go, then paused behind Draco's seat. "But, will you be lonely?" she pouted. "Unless you're with someone else?" she glared daggers at the back of Hermione's bushy head.

"No," said Draco, praying Pansy wouldn't recognize Hermione.

She didn't. "Well, alright, then." She swooped down and planted a fat kiss on Draco's cheek. He barely concealed his disgust as Pansy skipped off.

"Lovely," said Hermione. Draco suspected there was something else in her voice besides amused hatred.

"Hermione," whispered. Hermione jumped.

"You've never used my name before," she whispered, and then colored, as if embarrassed.

"I never had an actual conversation with you. We mostly were just trying to jinx each other."

Hermione shrugged.

"I want to help you," said Draco carefully.

Hermione's eyes flashed. "I don't need help."

Draco backtracked. "I know. But you seem to be without the other 2/3 of the Golden Trio. I was wondering why."

Hermione's cheeks colored, but with anger instead of embarrassment. "They didn't need me anymore." She kept her eyes downcast.

"Not need you?" Draco asked incredulously. "You're the cleverest witch I've ever known. I would never ditch you." he added shyly. It was strange for him to be voicing this opinion of her he kept quiet for so long. "Will you come with me?" he asked hopefully.

Hermione sighed in resignation. "I suppose, she whispered.

Draco smiled in true happiness, so rare lately. He was finally getting to know this mysterious and beautiful creature. He wrapped an arm around Hermione and turned in his seat. With a crack, they were gone.

()()()()()()()()()()

Harry Potter burst into the Leaky Cauldron just in time to see a blond boy Apparate, with Hermione in tow. His arm was wrapped around her, as if struggling to hold her against her will, and he was wearing a deep smirk that Harry knew very well.

The night contracted into a pinpoint of hatred.


	4. Chapter 4

** This is dedicated to all Pansy-haters (may our numbers continue to grow) and Paula Z again for her plotline…um…"advice", thought she doesn't call it that. **

Hermione realized belatedly that maybe she should have thought about going off with Draco a bit more. He was on the dark side, for crying out loud. Half of her brain was yelling at her for being stupid enough (clever—HA!) to agree to be taken somewhere willingly by an inner member of the Death Eaters. But the other half said "Oh, shut up," and enjoyed the feel of Draco's strong arm against her shoulder. It was so much more of an excellent experience than whenever Harry or Ron had held her.

All this went through her mind while Apparating to God knows where.

"Here we are," said Draco, finally standing on stable ground and peeking out the door; to check for anyone hearing their arrival, Hermione assumed. She gladly used this time to inspect his room, where he had taken them.

It was quite extravagant, with a canopy bed of deep green silk hangings, and silver-painted walls and dresser. The ceiling had magnificent moldings, all in a dizzying pattern that reminded Hermione of snakes, curling in and out of each other. Despite the elaborateness of the room, it seemed rather bare and lonely to Hermione. There was nothing personal here; nothing that suggested this wasn't just a room in a house but a bedroom.

Draco closed his door silently and turned around. "Like it?" he asked, gesturing around large space.

"Yes," she lied. Draco smirked as if he knew exactly what she meant. That sneer brought back memories of six years of torment from this very person. She crossed her arms, anger incinerating inside her. "So, what do you want?" she snapped with as much venom as she could. _I still don't trust you,_ she thought viciously. _No matter how handsome and charming you are._

Draco seemed surprised by the sudden fierceness in Hermione's stance and eyes. "So…will you hear me out?" he asked warily. Hermione gave a stiff nod. "Tell me about your mission for V-Voldemort."

"Well…I don't actually have an assignment from the Dark Lord," admitted Draco.

"WHAT?" Hermione shrieked. "_What_ did you say?"

"I don't…" Draco trailed off when he saw the fury in Hermione's eyes.

"So, what?" she snapped. "You lured me here for what? To—"

"I didn't lure you," interrupted Draco. "It isn't a mission for him, but something I need to do. Something against him. What my whole family needs—"

"Draco!" came a coo from right outside the door. "Are you there?"

"Crap, Pansy!" hissed Draco. "You have to hide!"

"Where?"

"Under the bed!"

"_What?" _

"No time! Draco slid Hermione under the bed quickly—but not with force, Hermione noticed. He was gentle, for pushing her under his bed.

"Hello, my Draco! I think you were mistaken about the ball-" all Hermione could see was Draco's shiny black dress shoes, and the acid-green snakeskin pumps of Pansy's. Her toes were painted a lurid hot pink.

"'My Draco,'" quoted Draco, disgusted. "I'm not _your_ anything,"

"Draco!" cried Pansy. "Are you sick? You aren't acting well!"

"Nope," said Draco, and his feet disappeared, replaced with the mattress of his bed poking Hermione in the head. She rolled on her back and punched the dent in the bed, and Draco's feet quickly re-appeared next to Pansy's. "For the first time," Draco said proudly, "I am completely well." Draco paused. "Actually, that's not correct. I am almost _well._ As soon as you leave, I will be better than well. I will be _fabulous_."

With pleasure, Hermione heard Pansy's deep intake of breath. "Draco?" she asked stupidly. "Are you…breaking up with me?"

Draco's deep laughter resonated around the room, giving Hermione chills. "When were we ever dating?" he asked scathingly.

Pansy screamed in rage and embarrassment. "Forever!"

Draco screamed back: "Never!"

Hermione watched in satisfaction as Pansy's disgusting pumps receded quickly. The heel on the right one broke off, and Pansy picked it up, sobbing uncontrollably and ran off again, tripping away angrily. Shaking with laughter, Hermione rolled out from under the bed, covered in dust bunnies.

"Did you enjoy the show?" asked Draco sarcastically, a smile twitching at the corner of his mouth. Seeing him reminded Hermione she was angry at him. She crossed her arms.

"Don't kill me," whispered Draco. "I _do_ need your help."

Hermione snorted. "Doing what, exactly?"

"Well," said Draco hesitantly. "There's a sort of…Marriage Law for Death Eater's, or their sons or daughters."

Hermione blinked. This was _not_ what she had expected. "Um…" was all she could say.

"Well, remember what I told you at the Leaky Cauldron? About the Dark Lord losing?"

Hermione nodded, not quite putting the two together.

"Well…" he said, squirming a little. "If we marry…muggleborns, then it'll show that we have changed, and accept muggleborns, and no more "pureblood dominance".

Hermione was a step ahead of him. "You brought me here to _marry_ you?" she screeched.

"My God, no," said Draco hurriedly. "I just…want you to…tutor me," he came up with on the spot. Hermione looked at him blankly.

"Tutor you?" she asked incredulously.

"On…muggle things," he added. When Hermione still looked blank "So I don't look totally dense on muggle things in front of my…uh, _wife_."

"Is that all?" asked Hermione. It seemed a pointless thing.

"Well, I can give you free lodgings and food," he pointed out.

"Without your family knowing?" she asked dryly.

"Well, I'll tell them," said Draco doubtfully. "They were the ones who came up with the "arranged marriage" bit, so they shouldn't mind."

Hermione hesitated. Again, her brain was split. Part of her was very against the idea. His whole "tutor" idea was completely see-through. But what was his ulterior motive, then? Kill her in her sleep? That was very easily avoided with simple spells and counter-curses. He couldn't be stupid enough to think she wouldn't put up spells to guard her, was he?

The other lovesick, romantic part was telling her that it was very sweet and chivalrous to offer her a room in this huge, magnificent house. He seemed very sincere when he was asking about her well-being in the Leaky Cauldron. So why wait till night to kill her? He could have done that the minute they arrived.

In any case, her guard wasn't coming down—_yet_.

"Fine," she sighed. "What do you want to know?"

()()()()()()()()()()

Narcissa pursed her lips in concentration, standing outside her son's bedroom doors. She had been roused by Pansy's wretched sobs.

"Lucius?" whispered Narcissa, and caught her husband as he walked past her. "I think we found the right wife for Draco."


	5. Chapter 5

**This is dedicated to CenturyLink, for giving me high-speed internet! **

Draco Malfoy had always been the center of Harry Potter's dartboard. Since that first day at Hogwarts, he had harbored hate against that stupid, slimy git. There had been no limit to how low Malfoy would sink. But this? Kidnapping Hermione Granger, in broad daylight, in a bar, for crying out loud? That was low. That was _repulsive_.

It was these points Harry mused, kneading his fists in the same place Hermione had been sitting not a half-hour ago. _Just another reason to hate Malfoy_, Harry thought bitterly. _He took the one thing in my life I had to look forward to._

Hermione had been Harry's last hope to finally finish off the Horocruxes. His last hope to finally redeem the stupidity and apathy for those long months. His last hope to apologize. And now, all he could do was sit here, gnashing his teeth.

"So tell me again," Harry begged the old barman, Tom. "What happened?"

Tom sighed. This was not the first time Harry had asked. "Draco appeared with that blond girl—"

"Pansy," Harry interjected.

"Yes, yes. Poppy. Then she left for the bathroom, and Miss Granger came in. She sat next to him."

This struck Harry as odd. Hermione, sitting next to Malfoy, chatting in a bar.

"They spoke for about three minutes, Peony came back, then Apparated. Then Mr. Malfoy and Miss Granger Apparated somewhere else. Anything else?" Tom asked wearily.

"What did they say to each other?" Harry asked anxiously.

"Um…" Tom scratched his chin absently. "I think they talked about He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named." He shrugged. "But that's not unusual. We're in a war."

"Thank you," Harry said vaguely. _Thanks for nothing_, he thought.

Where had Hermione gone? She couldn't have gone _willingly_…could she have? For the first time, a small, niggling doubt lingered in the back of his mind. Could Hermione have _wanted_ to go with Malfoy? But what for? What would Hermione have anything to do with Malfoy? He had tortured her for years mercilessly. Why would she _want_ to go with him willingly?

And why would they discuss Voldemort? They obviously had very different views on him, what with Malfoy worshipping the ground he walked on, and Hermione being more likely to puke on the ground he walked on.

But…Hermione couldn't have…No…But why else was Hermione going off with _Draco Malfoy?_ Did Hermione switch sides?

_ NO! _Harry wanted to scream. Hermione Granger, a Death Eater? It wasn't possible. Harry pushed the thought away.

But if not that…then why? Harry absently slid off the stool…

…And stepped on something soft and pliable. Harry reached down and picked up a small handbag. As he turned it over, it made a loud _clunk_, not proportionate to the small size. In other words, Hermione's purse.

Harry felt a strange sense of relief. There's no way Hermione would have left her bag purposely. She must have been taken against her will. Hermione's entire life was in that bag.

Harry felt terrible for the niggling doubts about Hermione's intents. Of course Hermione wouldn't turn to the dark side! She was Hermione after all, 1/3 of the Golden Trio, with really should be the Golden Double now. Harry smiled. He really liked that name.

Hermione may be Harry's best friend, but there was something he couldn't tell her…something that could possibly wreak their friendship. And that was the last thing Harry wanted.

()()()()()()()()()()

In a daze, Ron awoke from a knockout sleep. He had just awoken from the strangest dream that he was surrounded by cats. It was disconcerting to realize that while the cats might not be there, at some point there must have been dozens around, judging by the smell.

"Get out here! You've got half a dozen wands pointed at you and we don't care who we curse!"

Ron realized that he was in a tent, and the sun was peeking through an opened flap. A man in a mask that made him look like a skeleton. In a rush, the past few months came rushing back. Hermione's impertinence. Harry's betrayal.

"Get out here!" two large rough hands grabbed him.

"Geroff me!"

"Well…" said the man who grabbed Ron, who Ron now recognized, with disgust, as Greyback. "It's a Weasley." He shook Ron roughly. "What's your name, blood traitor?"

"Ron," said Ron stupidly. He was still drowsy and thick from his long sleep.

"The Ron Weasley?" Greyback looked positively gleeful. "The Ron Weasley traveling with Harry Potter?" Greyback's eyes looked as if they were going to pop out of his head in joy.

"Scabior! We've got Ron Weasley!" cried Greyback. The Snatcher named Scabior looked dubious. "Are 'choo sure it's 'im? They won't like it if it's a false alarm."

"Of course I'm sure," snarled Greyback. He shook Ron roughly. "Where's Harry Potter?"

"I don't know," mumbled Ron.

"Don't lie," snapped Greyback. "Tell me everything."

Suddenly, inside of Ron, something snapped. Ron was sick of everyone caring about Harry. He was sick of being third best, third wheel of the Trio. The unimportant one. It was time for revenge.

"You want to know about Harry? This is what I know…"


	6. Chapter 6

**This is dedicated to Dalton Gray. I think you'll know why soon enough. **

The training had begun.

Draco scowled. "But why do they need felly-tones? Can't they just send speaking patronuses?"

Hermione sighed. "Because they _can't do magic_. That's why they're called 'muggles'."

"This is pointless," declared Draco. "I'm hungry."

"Well, go eat then," snapped Hermione. She was sick of Draco's constant complaining. To be honest, she had been looking forward to their lessons, a little. In her mind, she had envisioned them getting far, and Draco wowing his…_future wife_…with his knowledge on muggles. But so far, all that had happened was Draco act condescending (not a surprise) about the muggles' technology.

She was severely tempted to just leave; run away from this place, swimming in luxury but drowning in misery. But the question remained: where would she go? There was no place for a wanted runaway. So for now, she would stay.

()()()()()()()()()()()()

"…And he always treated me like crap, but nobody else saw that. He _dated my sister_, and didn't even ask permission, and thought that it was okay, and he also would eat all the marmalade when he stayed with us—"

"Shut it already!" finally roared Greyback.

Scabior and the collective snatchers groaned and buried their faces in their hands. It was the third day of Ron's questioning, and all he had told them of Harry was trivial hatreds from over the years.

Scabior leaned over to Greyback. "He ain't told us nothing we can give the Dark Lord," he whispered.

"I know," Greyback growled back. "Listen here," he said, turning toward Ron angrily. "Stop with the stupidity! We need you to tell us something that we can use."

Ron's face lost some of his pent-up anger. It grew instead cunning and sly. "Why exactly do you want this information?"

Greyback leaned back. "To capture your little buddy Harry Potter."

Ron leaned back too, mimicking Greyback. "Well, as you know, my family isn't very well off…" he trailed off suggestively.

Greyback sighed. "You will get paid…depending on the quality of information you give."

Ron's smile broadened. "What if my information doesn't exactly portray your little Dark Lord in a good light? What if it's something he doesn't want you to know?"

Greyback and Scabior exchanged a long, brooding look. "Well, I say that's 'bout double," said Scabior. Greyback grudgingly nodded in agreement.

Ron smirked. "I have one word for you: Horocruxes."

()()()()()()()()()()

Draco groaned. "Let's take a break," he suggested.

"Fine," said Hermione curtly. "Since we haven't had five breaks in the past hour and a half."

Draco watched Hermione out of the corner of his eye as he walked out of the room. She had grown steadily more irritated as the day had gone on. But frankly, Draco was not interested in the postal service or the school system. But if he told Hermione that, she would leave. And the fear of Hermione leaving was greater than the boredom of electricity. "Let's go outside," he suggested. Hermione nodded curtly and Draco suppressed a sigh.

He led Hermione outside, to the garden. Surrounding them were lush bushes of herbs and flowers, just begging to explode with color. Hermione gasped in spite of herself.

"Oh my goodness," she breathed. "It's so…fascinating! Is that Beor herb? It cures seasickness! And is that Essence of Constantince? It's supposed to be able to predict your love life, if you powder it, and mix it with Murlop leaves. And is this—"

Hermione turned in ecstasy to find Draco a hairs breadth away. "When will you stop talking?" he whispered. Hermione tried to answer but found it difficult to think when he was that close. "Are you…" she began to ask, but was distracted by something behind him.

"Oh my gosh!" she exclaimed. "It's…it's a double rainbow!"

Draco turned. "All the way across the sky," he whispered, blown away.

Hermione couldn't speak, only to gaze at the beautiful intermixing of colors painted across the sky. "What does this mean?" she whispered, half to herself.

"It means a new beginning," said Draco. Hermione turned, to see him with his eyes glued to the sky, a change coming over his face.

Hermione looked back at the rainbow. A new beginning? She turned back to Draco, whose face was awash with wonder and delight. _Yes_, she decided. _A new beginning. _


End file.
